


the lonely road ahead

by euphemea



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fire Emblem: Three Houses Black Eagles Route Spoilers, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mentioned War Crimes, Missing Scene, Not A Fix-It, Post-Black Eagles Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Referenced PTSD, This is really not a happy fic, no happy ending, there’s a lot of misplaced anger going around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 20:40:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20841677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphemea/pseuds/euphemea
Summary: After everything they've lost to war, Sylvain just wants to keep Felix, but Sylvain knows that in the end he'll lose him too.





	the lonely road ahead

**Author's Note:**

> Major Crimson Flower route + paired ending spoilers.

“Leaving so soon, Felix? The party’s barely over.” 

Felix froze in his tracks to turn and shoot Sylvain a dirty glare. “What do you want, Sylvain.” 

Sylvain huffed a quiet laugh, teasing false cheer dropping away. “I thought something was up. You were quite rude last night, you know.”

Felix tsked. “Shut up. Spare me your empty words. If you have nothing useful to say, I’ll be on my way.”

* * *

The fight to storm Shambhala and eradicate the last of Those Who Slither in the Dark (a name Sylvain had always found ridiculous, but had quickly learned that Edelgard and Hubert would tolerate no alternative) taken place only two days previous. Tired and relieved, the Black Eagle Strike Force had spent much of the previous day torn between shock and joy that the wars were finally,  _ finally _ over. Humanity was free. No child need ever be judged again for whether they bore they Crest.

Goddess forgive him if he had tried to cling too tightly to Felix during the celebration that followed. He had spent too many years losing and losing and losing until Felix was the only familiar thing left other than the hope that this new world would be worth it. They had lost their home, their king, their friends, even themselves. Sylvain had watched Felix’s eyes grow progressively more haunted over the five years of war against their homeland and grow darker still in the subsequent four fighting to throw off the last shackles that bound humanity to Fódlan’s bloody and Crest-cursed origins. 

Something in Felix’s stiffness and irritation during the gathering had left Sylvain unsettled and unable to sleep despite the heavy liquors that made their way around the group of former Officers Academy students. Felix was always taciturn at best, but next to everyone else’s joy that they had reached that future they had only dreamt of for years, Felix’s callousness felt even more stark in comparison. 

Felix had thrown off Sylvain’s arm over his shoulders every time Sylvain had approached. He had growled at Bernadetta when she sat next to him. Felix even snappishly shut down Lysithea’s offer of a cake she had hidden away in the hopes of celebrating their victory. While Sylvain was disappointed by Felix’s rejection of his affection, it was nothing out of the ordinary, unlike his unkindness to the girls. Sylvain attempted to distract Bernadetta with questions about anything she was writing when she began to fret that she had angered Felix, only for Felix to huff and stalk off in the direction of his tent.

He hadn’t returned to the party.

Sylvain eventually bid the others a good night to seek out Felix, but unable to find him around the camp and receiving no response when he called for him outside his tent, Sylvain returned to his own tent, cold and concerned. Sleep evaded Sylvain as gaunt corpses with incomprehensible magical weapons danced again on the insides of his eyelids and he spent the night listening to the indistinct chatter of the strike team on the other edge of the camp. One by one, the voices dropped away as each person took their leave until it was silent other than the insistent chirping of cicadas in the night.

When he finally could not bear to toss and turn any longer, Sylvain sat up and sighed. His watch would likely start soon, so there was no more point in trying to sleep.

* * *

Sylvain grabbed Felix’s sleeve as he turned back away toward the path leading away from their camp. In the distance behind Felix, the mountains leading to Fódlan’s Throat and Almyra loomed. If Felix disappeared into those mountains, Sylvain knew in his gut he might never find Felix again.

“I don’t want to lose you too. Don’t leave. Please.” 

Felix’s laugh was more a distorted bark than anything approximating joy. “And stay for what, exactly? I don’t have a home to go back to, we saw to that ourselves. Even if I did, I never wanted that title, it always belonged to my father and the chivalrous idiocy of Faerghus.”

“I know we’ve lost a lot, Felix, but we still have each other.”

“Do we? Look at us. I’ve become more of a monster than the boar. Hubert may never have used you as a spy or an assassin because you’re too loud, too  _ weak _ , but they sent me in that mission to kill the Agarthan children. Weaponless kids. And you! You wanted to rid the world of Crests, sweet-talked by Edelgard’s ideals and the fact that she shares your hatred of the blasted things. Goddess knows Edelgard can’t bring back your brother, can’t ever make him love you, can’t fix either of our childhoods.”

Sylvain sighed. “I still believe that we chose the right side of the war, to really finally be free of Crests. I… I miss Dimitri and Ingrid, every day. You know, sometimes I can’t even really remember what they sounded like? Miklan’s face is almost a blur now. ...I have to believe we did the right thing. I don’t know if I can live with myself otherwise.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t.” 

Sylvain let out a sharp exhale and Felix flinched. They both knew he’d crossed a line.    
  
“Maybe you’re not wrong, Felix, but I have to keep believing in this future. I may not be able to live with myself, but we owe it to everything we’ve sacrificed to see this through so that no one else has to feel this way. I just want to still have you in that future.”

“What’s there even left to have?” Felix muttered.

“We… we don’t have to struggle to see the end of a war anymore. Isn’t that enough right now?”

“You were there, Sylvain! I cut down my father, I cut down Dimitri, and you fought Ingrid to the death yourself! And we’ve only become even crueler fighting with the Emperor to destroy the Agarthan remnants!”

Felix’s expression dropped into sadness. “There’s no battles worth fighting where we have to kill the innocent. I’d rather make my living by my blade protecting the weak.”

“Where will you go?” Sylvain tightened his grip and stared desperately into Felix’s eyes.

Felix turned his glare down at the trodden path away from Sylvain, sharply tugging his arm away, but Sylvain anticipated it and held fast. “Does it matter? I’m not going back to Faerghus, or whatever Edelgard’s calling it now. I wasn’t going to return then and I’m not going to now. And I can’t stay with the Emperor either. If you still want to be her lapdog now that the war is over, go hide away in the Gautier lands and pretend to be the good little son your father always wanted. I have my sword and I don’t need anything else.” 

_ I don’t need you. _

Felix’s venom hung in the air between them. 

“I know, Felix. You’re skilled and you can cut any path on your own. But I’ve always wanted you to need me anyway.” 

Sylvain stepped in and gently reached his hand to cup Felix’s cheek and turn him so they were eye to eye again. 

“Please, Felix. Stay. Stay for me, so we can make something better of this world.”

Felix’s expression softened infinitesimally as he just barely leaned into the touch. 

“We made a promise a long time ago to stay together until we die together. Don’t break that promise today.” 

Felix’s glare hardened again but he didn’t force his way out of Sylvain’s embrace. “Don’t try that emotionally manipulative bullshit on me again. Your promises aren’t worth anything.”

“That one was. You’ve always been worth more than I can say.”

Sylvain slowly reeled Felix in toward him until their bodies were flush and he leaned in to press his lips against Felix’s. Felix froze at the touch and remained stiff and unresponsive even as Sylvain let go of Felix’s sleeve to wrap that arm around his waist and let the other find its way into Felix’s hair. 

Felix seemed to sigh and finally relax, allowing that seed of hope to bloom in Sylvain’s chest - 

Felix shoved Sylvain away.

“Ow, fuck!” Sylvain reached one hand to wipe his lip and was unsurprised to have it come away from the bite bloody. “What the hell, Felix!”

Felix punched Sylvain in the gut for good measure and paused a moment before also kicking him in the shin. He glowered down at Sylvain as he wheezed from the pain.

“Keep your pretty words and your empty promises. Stay the fuck away from me.”

Felix turned heel and stormed out of the camp, leaving Sylvain pained and alone on the ground behind him. 


End file.
